


Spoken For

by Tah the Trickster (TahTheTrickster)



Series: My Hero. [9]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-07
Updated: 2016-12-07
Packaged: 2018-09-07 01:01:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8776951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TahTheTrickster/pseuds/Tah%20the%20Trickster
Summary: While overnighting in Riften, Dar'Zahyla finally finds out just what that amulet she's been wearing all over Skyrim means. She isn't amused. Lydia very much is.





	

**Author's Note:**

> NOTE: if you haven't yet you might want to go back and read "Tomb Raiding"

As soon as I caught sight of that Brynjolf fellow Delphine had mentioned, I knew he was trouble. Dar'Zahyla may not have known who or what he was, but I could spot a member of the Thieves' Guild a mile off. My lip curled in distaste. Dar'Zahyla, however, was too focused on getting to Esbern before the Thalmor did to pay much mind to his character.

Until he made the mistake of trying to trade his information for her help in a thieving operation.

I had to admit, it had been somewhat satisfying to see the significantly shorter woman yank Brynjolf down to her level by his collar, snarling in his face to demand how dared he to presume her a thief on no basis but her Khajiit blood. But even though her outburst had shocked him into giving her the information regardless, I got the feeling, watching him rubbing his neck, that we'd likely have a sudden spike in bandits trying to shake us down on the road. If nothing else, at least her insulted outrage made it easy for me to talk her into spending the night in a tavern aboveground before we went slopping through the foul Ratways beneath the city.

"Hm, my moon, do you suppose they will serve Khajiit here?" she asked, mingled sarcasm and ire coloring her voice.

"They will," I assured her smoothly. I might have to do some threatening or skull-bashing, but they'd damn well better serve her.

"Hm."

Dar'Zahyla's ire only rose when she saw that the tavern owners were Argonian. I had no doubt that she would remain civil with them, but nonetheless offered to purchase her drink in her stead so she could go take a seat and begin to relax. The gratefulness in her gaze assured me that I'd made the right decision.

"Two rooms, then?" the bored-looking Argonian woman at the desk asked me.

I bit the inside of my cheek to smother a smile. It'd been a long while since we'd bothered wasting coin on multiple rooms, but some innkeepers still took offense at the idea of a Khajiit and Nord bunking together. "Just one." I waited, but besides a slightly-wrinkled nose, no protest seemed forthcoming. Coin and key changed hands; I thanked her and asked what drinks the place had on tap.

"Talen," she called in that raspy voice of theirs. In an instant, the second—male, this time, I was fairly sure—appeared at my elbow, grinning wide enough for me to see each of his needle-thin teeth.

"That would be  _ my _ specialty. Talen-Jei, at your service," he said, trying to purse his words into a purr. I remained disinterested; he faltered. "...We, ah, have most of the essentials, but perhaps I could interest you in some of our specialty brews—"

"Mead for me," I interrupted coolly. I was a simple person; I just wanted my usual. My Thane, however... I nearly chuckled to myself even as Talen-Jei's expression fell slightly. "But my p— _ companion _ probably wouldn't mind trying one. A pint of... whatever you have that's sweetest." She'd appreciate it, I knew: she'd accept mead, but it wasn't her favorite. It was just much more tolerable, in her opinion, than ale—or "piss-water," as she'd taken to calling it.

The Argonian perked right up, then, gathering up a pair of steins while rattling off the ingredients of the "White-Gold Tower" he was getting for her: cream, mead, lavender—plenty sweet enough to suit her insatiable sweet tooth.

With drinks and key in hand, I headed into the main room—only to grimace at the sight of Dar'Zahyla leaning back in her chair, looking perplexed as a robed Redguard preached enthusiastically to her.  _ Ysmir's beard, she can't go anywhere alone. _

"—you see?" he was asking her in earnest. "Mara is the true embodiment of love—if you ever have loved at all, that is Mara's blessing upon you! Surely you have heard of Her?"

Dar'Zahyla absently crossed an ankle over her armored thigh and shot me a quizzical look. I simply shrugged and gave her her glass and room key. She grinned, then, nose twitching slightly at the sugary scent. " _ Tonshe _ , kha'jay." She took a deep drink and turned back to the man before her. "Regretfully, Khajiit cannot say so," she said, and his face fell. "However, this... Mara, you said?"

"That's right," I supplied. I fell into a nearby chair to sip my mead and enjoy the free entertainment of a priest of my pantheon failing to convert my Thane, yet again. And a priest of Mara, too. That should be even more fun—Dar'Zahyla's amulet still hung about her neck, after all. A little dented, a little tarnished, but still entirely recognizable. And I had yet to tell her what, exactly, that amulet signified.

Dar'Zahyla, for her part, simply nodded at me and turned back to the priest. "Yes, your Mara. She shares the name of the Khajiiti Mother Cat, yes?  _ Isha wo zegatana, var shabar santi _ —eh, this one must confess she did not recite Her chants as often as is polite, yet—"

The priest sputtered loud enough that more than a few eyes drifted our way. I sniggered into my glass. "Mara is not a  _ cat, _ She's the goddess of love! The handmaiden of Kyne! You wear Her amulet!" My smile widened into a grin.

"Eh?" She idly picked up the amulet and turned it over between her fingers. She gave a little half-chuckle and let it drop again. "Apologies, priest, Khajiit did not wear it for this reason."

His brows shot up as she lifted her glass to her lips once more.  _ Here we go. _ His voice was insulted: "You don't believe in the mother-goddess and yet dare ask Her blessing in  _ marriage? _ "

Dar'Zahyla choked immediately, slamming her glass onto the table nearby as she coughed violently into her free hand. My shoulders shook with the effort of silencing my laughter.

"Speak again, priest," Dar'Zahyla barked between hacking up the liquid she'd taken into her lungs, "this one surely misunderstands. Dar'Zahyla has not yet spoken of marriage."

"Oh, I beg to differ," he countered, jabbing a finger in the direction of her amulet. " _ That _ says plenty for you. You—what, you just go around proclaiming your availability to the world without a thought to the One who makes it possible?" Her eyes cut to me, and I could tell from the way they narrowed that she was onto me. I simply gave her a little wave—smiled and winked.

She stood so quickly it was a wonder the chair didn't fall back. Her tail lashed, the fur bristling in a display of deep embarrassment that I almost never saw from her. "Kha'jay. Lydia.  _ A word. _ "

I chuckled and stood as she stormed off to the room, away from the baffled insulted priest. I simply patted him on the shoulder as I passed, taking another swig from my glass. "Better luck next time," I said with a cheeky smile.

No sooner had I stepped into our shared room than Dar'Zahyla's amulet hit my breastplate with a hollow  _ bang! _ I laughed aloud, only just catching it in my free hand, and teasingly held it back out to her as she growled and swore between removing plates of armor.

"Impudence! Always with you!" she snapped at me, ears flattened in embarrassment. "You  _ knew, _ you— _ ziss! _ Khajiit cannot even  _ fathom  _ enough Nordic, you—!" Her tail lashed again and she unleashed a stream of Ta'agra curses in my direction that I'm sure would've made me blush if I could understand them. As it was, I simply leaned against the closed door, giggling to myself as I held the cool brass of her amulet to my lips. Yes, this display of unbridled mortification was well worth the some eighteen-odd months I'd spent keeping that secret from her.

"My Thane," I said with a crooked smile, "I hardly think this is worth such a reaction."

Dar'Zahyla gave me a look that said I'd clearly lost my mind. " _ Vara sh— _ " She shook her head, as though to shake Nordic back into her throat. She lightly thumped my forehead with a single finger. " _ Lydia, _ forgive me for reacting poorly to finding that this one has been broadcasting her  _ availability _ for—hm, Baan Dar  _ knows _ how long—"

I simply smiled again, lifting her amulet so that it dangled from a single finger before her face. She didn't look amused. "My Thane." She started to huff again. "Dar'Zahyla." That got her attention. "It isn't nearly as big a deal as you think it is. Unless of course—" Here I quirked a brow at her, my smile turning wicked "—you  _ are _ spoken for."

Her eyes went wide, and mingled surprise and fluster flashed across her expression. Then she narrowed them again, harrumphed, and snatched the amulet back from me. My smirk worsened.  _ Gotcha. _ " _ Insolent _ ," she hissed, shoving it against my breast. "Carry it yourself."

My fingers lingered on her wrist for a moment as I took it in my hand again. "Of course, my Thane."


End file.
